


After Hours

by orphan_account



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitute, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-24
Updated: 2010-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more to life than afternoon meetings.  Or at least, there's supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic in the Nine-to-five 'verse. And here I thought I was done with this fic, but no, it latched onto my brain and now I'm having too much fun to stop. There's at least one more part coming, 'cause I think I inadvertently stumbled into some Plot by mistake. It was an accident, I swear.

They're sitting in the tub, halfway through a marathon three hour 'meeting' Sophia had managed to block off in Mr. Padalecki's schedule.

Jensen's laying between Mr. Padalecki's legs, back to chest, half asleep while Mr. Padalecki idly traces his fingers across Jensen's skin. One hand is cupped around Jensen's cock, holding it up against his stomach and flicking his thumb over the tip every so often. The other is fondling his sac, rolling it with his fingers and tugging gently every time Jensen starts dropping off to sleep.

They've fucked once already, pushed up against the marble counter in the bathroom with Jensen's legs hooked over Mr. Padalecki's arms. Jensen had been shaking and strung out by the time he'd finally been allowed to come; back arched and head tilted back against the mirror behind him, Mr. Padalecki biting and sucking his way down Jensen's chest. They'd stumbled over to the bathtub afterwards, leaving their clothes where they fell in a trail across the floor.

Mr. Padalecki brings him back with another gentle tug.

"- you even listening?" Shit, he's drifted off again. Thankfully, Mr. Padalecki doesn't sound angry, just amused. Jensen drags one of his hands up from where it's been resting on his stomach, strokes and pinches at his nipples until they pebble with the combination of pain and the chill of the water evaporating. Just because they aren't fucking right now doesn't mean he isn't still on duty. Mr. Padalecki chuckles, shifts up a bit and tips his head down so he can watch. "As I was saying, you should move in with me."

Wait, _what?_

"Yeah, 'cause that would look completely professional. VP of the company shacking up with his toy."

"Oy, you're the 'VP of Hospitality and Entertainment' and you should be proud of that title. I came up with it myself." He gives Jensen's cock a light squeeze.

"I'm sure you did, sir. It's a very good title." There's only a hint of sarcasm in his voice; Jensen knows just how much disrespect he can get away with. "Doesn't mean it wouldn't look totally fishy."

"I'm not talking about moving in together and becoming life partners. There's an open apartment in my building; yearly reviews are coming up and I think maybe it's time to renegotiate your contract."

Jensen groans. Leave it to Mr. Padalecki to want to talk about contract negotiations when Jensen can feel the man's half-hard cock pressing along the crack of his ass.

"I can't afford an apartment in your building," Jensen replies.

"Well, see, that's the wonderful thing about it. It's _my_ building."

Of course Mr. Padalecki would actually own the apartment building he lives in. He probably has a gorgeous penthouse suite with a pool and a movie theater and a bowling alley or whatever it is the ridiculously rich and powerful liked to have in their apartments. Jensen's line of thought is cut short when Mr. Padalecki pulls his hand away and slips it down under Jensen's right knee, pulling it up to his chest and causing Jensen to sink down further into the water. His other hand moves down further, presses against Jensen's hole with a quick stroke of his fingers, and he flinches.

_Fuck_, he's still sore. It isn't just from today, Mr. Padalecki might like it rough but he's always careful. No, it's his own damn fault for not having any self control. He'd gotten home last night frustrated and desperate, fucked himself on the biggest dildo he had with too little prep and spit for lube, groaning out _sir_ as he came because even alone he doesn't dare call Mr. Padalecki by his name.

Jensen is well aware he's a little fucked in the head over his boss, but now it's affecting his job and Jensen never thought he was quite that pathetic.

Mr. Padalecki pulls back immediately but doesn't let go of Jensen's leg.

"You sore?"

Jensen nods; can't trust himself to speak yet.

"Dammit, Jen, you shoulda said something."

And now Mr. Padalecki is angry. The Texas in his voice and the nicknames only came out when he was pissed or too far gone to care. Mr. Padalecki runs his fingertips over Jensen's hole once more, and Jensen doesn't have to look up to know he's being watched. He controls his reaction this time, but it's not good enough. There's no way Mr. Padalecki doesn't feel the tightness in his muscles or see the clench of his jaw. He lets go of Jensen's leg and pushes him up.

"C'mon, out."

They climb out of the tub, dry off with a few of the plush towels stacked within easy reach. Jensen stands naked, flushed with embarrassment at the sight of Mr. Padalecki's cock, still half erect as he gets dressed. He's supposed to take care of that.

"Stay here," he says over his shoulder as he walks out the door and over to his desk. Jensen shifts from one foot to the other, starting to feel cold as the open bathroom door lets in a draft. He hears a short intercom conversation between Mr. Padalecki and his secretary, and then he's walking back into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

"Turn around and show me."

There isn't much of a question as to what Mr. Padalecki is asking to see. Jensen turns, reaches back and grabs his ass to expose himself. There's a clatter as Mr. Padalecki pulls open a drawer and searches around for something. Jensen is at a loss as to what; the lube is sitting on the counter in plain sight. He must find what he's looking for, because Jensen feels a slight shift in the air as Mr. Padalecki steps up behind him. When he chances a look back to see what he's doing, he sees Mr. Padalecki crouched down, eye-level with his ass and just _looking_.

It's not like Jensen is shy, especially not with Mr. Padalecki, not after all these months. But he's never been examined this closely before, and it kind of makes him want to curl up and hide. Mr. Padalecki just clucks his tongue, like Jensen is some idiot child that went outside to play without a coat on.

"You're all red. No tearing though, just rode hard." Mr. Padalecki pauses, twists off the cap of whatever it is he's holding. "Spread further."

Jensen shifts on his feet, spreads them apart and clenches his hands in the muscles of his ass. He stares down at his toes, can't watch as Mr. Padalecki gently applies something cool and slick to his pucker with careful touches. It doesn't feel like lube, but it soothes away the slight burn of his abused skin.

Jensen breathes out a sigh of relief. They've never played hard; never anything more than a couple slaps to Jensen's ass when Mr. Padalecki is feeling playful, but then Jensen's never not been available to service Mr. Padalecki when he wanted it. He could still now, but Jensen is pretty sure that insisting he's fine would only earn him an irritated glare.

Still, he'd been concerned without even realizing it that his slip up would earn him some kind of punishment. But Mr. Padalecki isn't that kind of guy. He makes Jensen feel miserable about disappointing him with just a look, and that's punishment enough.

"Turn around," Mr. Padalecki orders.

Jensen obeys; doesn't let go of his ass because Mr. Padalecki hasn't told him to. He's still crouched in front of Jensen, spends a few minutes carefully examining Jensen's cock and balls. Jensen clenches his jaw; knows Mr. Padalecki is checking him out to make sure he's not hiding any other problems. Because he's apparently just proved he's not responsible enough to take care of that on his own.

"Alright," Mr. Padalecki finally says with a slap to Jensen's flank. He opens another drawer and tosses Jensen a pair of black satin panties. "You can get dressed, we're done for the day."

Mr. Padalecki goes to leave the bathroom, pauses with his hand on the doorknob. "But think about what I said, okay? The apartment, we can work something out."

He flashes a grin as he walks out, and Jensen knows he's forgiven. He still feels miserable. They had a whole other hour blocked aside that they could've spent happily fucking, and instead Jensen traded it for an empty fantasy and a quick fuck with a plastic dick. He won't be making that mistake again.

*

Jensen spends the afternoon messing around on the internet. He makes a list of all the buildings his boss owns, rules out the ones in commercial zones and whittles the list down to three potential buildings that may or may not be home to one Mr. Padalecki. They're all ridiculously posh, doormen and concierge services, private gyms and in-house spas. Jensen's apartment is nice enough, big and clean and he doesn't have to share with a roommate. It's in a nice part of town, close to some good bars and restaurants.

He's perfectly content. Really, the only upside to moving would be, well. Mr. Padalecki.

He's not sure what this new arrangement would mean. If they're in the same building, does that mean middle of the night calls? Working through the weekend? Jensen is half hard and half terrified at the prospect. Sex with Mr. Padalecki is amazing, it's almost ridiculous to consider it work. But Jensen's smart enough to know that giving anyone that much control over his life is sure to end badly. Isn't it?

Mr. Padalecki has always seemed like a reasonable enough guy, but everyone is a little bit different in the comfort of their own home. Less restrained. And Jensen still isn't sure if that belongs in the plus column or the negative one.

He's busy clicking through pictures of the 1312 Grove street building when he glances up to see Mr. Padalecki leaning against his open door. Jensen bolts up, hand fumbling to close the browser window. Mr. Padalecki grins.

"So, I'm guessing by now you've done a little bit of research, scoped out the buildings."

There's no point denying it, but Mr. Padalecki doesn't even seem to need confirmation from him. He walks in, pulls the door closed behind him, casually sits down in the chair on the other side of Jensen's desk.

"It's the one on Oleander, by the way." Mr. Padalecki explains, and Jensen mentally crosses off the first and third candidates on his list.

"That's, uh. That's a nice building."

"It is. Think about it. If you decide you want to see the place, I'll have Sophia set something up." There's another uncomfortable pause. "How's your ass?"

"Fine," Jensen replies and his voice breaks on the word. He's done plenty of kinky things over the course of his life, a whole bunch of them have been with Mr. Padalecki over the past seven months. But sitting here at his desk casually talking about the state of his abused asshole hits a whole new level of weird. There's a crinkle of amusement visible in Mr. Padalecki's eyes.

"And your underwear?"

"Wet."

Mr. Padalecki smirks. "Keep 'em that way. And wear 'em in tomorrow."

He walks out the door with a wave, and Jensen spends a few quiet moments thumping his head on his desk.

*

On Friday he goes out drinking with some friends. He hasn't known any of them all that long, except for Chris, who's popped in and out of Jensen's life for years, swinging by whenever he has a gig in the area. Jensen drinks and laughs with the rest of them, pushes Mr. Padalecki's offer to the back of his mind as much as he can.

He has a pretty good life going on here. Pretty damn lucky, considering. He'd dropped out of college after two years, directionless and unhappy. He'd spent another year on the road with Chris and his band, hauling equipment and sleeping on motel floors or in the back of the band's truck. His parents called sometimes, disappointed and at a loss for what to do. Eventually, his dad had put his foot down and used some work connections to arrange an interview for Jensen at the Philadelphia office of some big company.

Jensen had predictably bombed the interview, wearing his only dress shirt and pants that were crumpled from being stuffed at the bottom on his backpack for so long. A neat, well-qualified, and ridiculously organized young woman had bagged the job instead. Sophia.

Two weeks later Mr. Padalecki had called him with an offer for a very different kind of job.

Jensen's parents were elated, bragging about their son the big honcho VP to anyone that would listen. They had no idea what Jensen actually did.

Mr. Padalecki and a very resourceful Sophia had arranged everything; the diploma on his wall was a fake, his job responsibilities were left conveniently vague, and a very capable secretary was hired to do all the actual work. Jensen made friends with the people in his apartment building, since everyone at work regarded him with a kind of uncertain awe. They all thought he was some kind of boy wonder; must be to have been hired as a VP straight out of college. Jensen snorts and takes another swig of beer.

"What's up with you, boy?" Chris slaps his shoulder to get his attention. "You look like you're wanderin' miles away."

"Jus' thinking," Jensen slurs. Okay, so he's kind of had a lot of beer.

Chris waves his own bottle, prompting him on. At some point, conversation at the table had died down without him noticing, and everyone is watching him.

"I uh, got this offer from my boss. Yearly review, comes with some different hours, get a raise. Y'know how it is."

Chris just chuckles, he's the only one of Jensen's friends that knows exactly what Jensen does for a living. "Nope, I really don't. Never had a steady job in my life, and that's damn well the way I like it. But Jenny here," Chris slings an arms around Jensen's shoulders. "Jenny lets that hardass boss of his ride his ass all day and now he wants to get paid more to let 'im ride his ass all night long too."

Everyone at the table bursts out laughing. They don't know that Chris isn't speaking metaphorically, but Jensen still wants to strangle Chris for putting it like that all the same.

"Lay off," he hisses at Chris, kicks him under the table as hard as he can. Chris just rolls his eyes and takes another pull of beer.

Later that night, when everyone's made it back to their respective apartments and Jensen is stumbling through the door of his own with Chris, he brings it up again.

"Seriously, Jen, you gonna let that boy take over your whole life and jus' bend over for it?"

"I don't know, Chris. I haven't decided anything, I just. It's good, it's really good. He's like a fucking porn star or something and if I'm havin' fun and gettin' paid, why the fuck not?"

"And what about when he decides you ain't fun anymore?" Chris plops down on the couch and rolls his head back to look up at Jensen.

Jensen chucks an extra set of sheets at Chris' head and replies. "Then I promise I'll come back on the road with you and wash out your dirty speedos for you."

"Ew, fuck you I don't wear no twink ass speedos!" Chris yells back as Jensen laughs and heads off to bed.

*

On Monday morning, he types up a quick email to Sophia and hits send before he can think about it too much.

That afternoon, Mr. Padalecki bends him over his desk and fucks him while they're both still wearing their suits. Afterwards, when Jensen is wiping down the desk with his pants still bunched around his ankles, Mr. Padalecki hands him a sticky note with the place and time of an appointment with his realtor. Jensen nods, shuffles off to the bathroom with a damp come covered towel in one hand and the sticky note clutched in the other.

The meeting with the Realtor on Wednesday morning is about as boring as Jensen expected. He prattles on about details Jensen already knows from his research online. The private gym is a definite attraction, staying fit is one of his few job responsibilities and not having to take the subway to get to one would be a plus. The apartment itself is large and airy, with floor to ceiling windows and an open layout. The Realtor finally leaves him alone to consider for a bit, handing him a sealed manila envelope from Sophia.

Inside is a concise but vague memo explaining that a service elevator on the west side of the building would be set aside for his personal use. Jensen doesn't need any hints to understand exactly what he would be using that elevator for.

Ten minutes later the realtor pops his head in and tells him he has a message from Jensen's office, that Jensen's 2pm appointment has been moved for the day and could he please wait in Mr. Padalecki's apartment until he gets home, they have important business to discuss. Jensen nods, follows the realtor up to the top floor and into Mr. Padalecki's apartment. The Realtor leaves him with a smile and a business card, and Jensen is left standing in the entryway clutching his manila envelope and staring at the extravagant apartment.

He doesn't dare move to poke around, though he can't help hitting the bathroom and prepping himself a bit with a convenient bottle of hand lotion he finds on the counter. He sure as hell doesn't want Mr. Padalecki to come home and catch him unprepared.

Jensen and Chris had spent Saturday sitting around watching bad movies and smoking a little weed, talking about random shit. Chris still isn't on board with the idea, he's a good friend and doesn't want to see Jensen throw away his independence for a good fuck.

"It won't last," Chris had warned.

"Which is exactly why I should take advantage of it while I still can, yeah?"

Chris hadn't had a response, and it hadn't come up again.

Of course, none of that meant that Jensen was just going to blindly accept Mr. Padalecki's offer without some reassurances.

Jensen was on his seventh game of spider solitaire on his phone when the door swung open and Mr. Padalecki walked in like he owned the place. Jensen almost smacked himself at the metaphor, Mr. Padalecki _did_ own the place.

"Well?"

"It's nice," Jensen hedges.

It's all the opening Mr. Padalecki needs. "One year contract, you keep all the job responsibilities you have now, we cut back on your office hours a bit since you'll be working from home -" Mr. Padalecki winks.

"How many hours?"

"I was thinking about that. Gotta keep up appearances, so you'd have to come in early, leave late. But maybe take extra long lunches, leave the building and come back here, whatever. As for your work outside the office, I'm thinking one or two nights a week, sometimes mornings." Mr. Padalecki stops to think. "No later than midnight and no earlier than seven. Gotta make sure you get your beauty sleep."

It hits Jensen then, why Mr. Padalecki is so good. He's _enjoying_ this.

"Weekends?"

"Are all yours," Mr. Padalecki says with his hands spread wide. "You in or out?"

Jensen swallows. It all sounds reasonable enough, and who is he kidding, like it was ever even a question.

"In."

Mr. Padalecki's face lights up with a smile. "Awesome. I'll send Sophia by with the paperwork tomorrow, you two can polish out the details." He claps his hands together. "Now, I believe we missed our two-pm today, didn't we?"

"We did, sir."


End file.
